


All the Numberless Goings-On of Life

by belial



Series: Frost at Midnight - the Coleridge Remix [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dominance, Edging, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Submission, Teasing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve treats Bucky to a memorable sexual encounter - Set in the "Sole Unquiet Thing" universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Numberless Goings-On of Life

**Author's Note:**

> So my sequel to the "Sole Unquiet Thing" is giving me fits, so here's 2,500 words of Steve and Bucky porn. No plot.... :)

You blame Stark for the bathtub, but at times like this you can’t be assed to complain about him having it installed. The sunken tub’s mostly full of the hottest water you can stand, and you laze about in it, allowing the water to take away the aches and pains from the latest “psycho of the week”.

( _”Besides, when you get to be your advanced age, you should enjoy things like spongebaths!” Tony had crowed, right before he was shrieking like a little girl with your knee in his back._ )

Your eyes are closed, sleep stealing over you, when the door to the bathroom creaks open. You don’t bother opening your eyes; you’d know your husband’s footsteps anywhere. “Hey,” you mumble.

He doesn’t respond, but the rustling of clothes makes you grin. “I’m not sharing this hot water with you,” you tease.

“No one asked you to.”

One of your eyes opens and you take him in; shirtless, shorts and briefs pooling around his ankles, one hand stroking his length in slow, teasing motions. You swallow hard and all of your boneless languor shifts into hot, unbearable arousal. “Wha…?” you choke.

“I told you,” he replies, leaning back against the bathroom counter. “You don’t have to share the tub. I’ll just stay here, then, and look at you while I jack my cock.”

Goddamnit. Steve, in all his glorious perfection, has the ability to absorb anything he puts his mind to. He’s already learned French and Russian; why not also master dirty talk? 

“Mm,” he sighs, arching so that his abs ripple. “Kinda lonely over here, though.”

You make a noise that sounds reminiscent of a dying animal and he grins at you. “Sorry, Buck, what was that?”

“Get in the tub, you punk,” you croak. 

He shrugs. “Not sure I want to, with such a lackluster welcome. Thought you didn’t want to share?”

“Stevie…”

He rubs his thumb over the head of his dick, gathers the moisture there, and brings it to his mouth. You watch in unimaginable envy as his soft, pink tongue swipes across the digit, lapping the slick away. “Not as good as you taste,” he all but purrs.

You shift in the tub, pulling yourself out of the water to lean out and reach for him. “Come on,” you whine. “Please?”

He sinks to his knees so the two of you are eye-level. “Please what?”

“Please get in the tub with me?”

He pauses, the brilliant tease. “I’m not sure I want a bath anymore, though.”

“ _Steven._ ”

He’s back to touching himself. He makes a tight fist around the head of his dick and pushes into it, eyes sinking closed and ass clenching. “So good,” he moans, and that’s it – you leap from the tub and tackle him to the bathroom floor. 

“Give me that,” you say, swatting his hands away. Before he can object, you’ve got your mouth around him and your nose in his pubes. He shouts as you swallow, choking yourself on his cock in sheer bliss. 

“Fuck, fuck yes, wanna get you on my dick, Buck,” he says, and manhandles you off of him. “Wanna get you in that tub and bend you over, fuck you deep.”

You groan, your brain short-circuiting at his words. “Yeah,” you manage to say, and that’s all he needs before he’s gathering you in his arms and the two of you are stumbling into the water again. He doesn’t give you any chance to change your mind; he simply pushes you over the rim of the tub and kneels between your spread legs. A bottle clicks – when he had time to grab lube, you’ll never know – and then it doesn’t matter because he’s got two fingers inside you, aiming for your prostate. 

“Fuck!” you shout, as he presses down. “Steve, Steve, Jesus, please!”

His slick fingers spread, and rub, and molest you from the inside out and you’re a sobbing hot mess by the time he’s got you impaled on his prick. “I could stay here forever,” he says, rocking into you. “Have you like this all the time, be satisfied to keep you satisfied.”

He leans over your back, his arms wrapping around you and lacing his fingers with yours. You arch, pulling him in deeper, throwing your head back so it rests on his shoulder. “Want that, too. Wanna be yours, always, warm your bed for you every night. God, please…”

He reaches for your cock, but bypasses it to clench a hand around your balls, tugging them away from your body. “Not yet,” he says, nipping his teeth into your earlobe. “Wait for me, sweetheart, can you wait for me?”

You choke on a sob, but force your body to unclench, and he rewards you by gently thrust inside you. Your thighs are shaking from the pleasure but you stay still, letting him fuck into you at his own pace. “God, Bucky,” he says, and the hand not pulling your balls from your body traces over your right hip. “You feel so amazing.”

“Please,” you say, because you’re close to being overwhelmed by him. “Whatever you want, please…”

The free hand stills, squeezes your hip, and then moves to touch at the place where his body joins yours. You whimper as he slides a finger into you alongside his cock. “Tighter like this,” he says. “Could fit another finger in, make you really feel it.”

You clamp down on him and you both moan at the sensation. “You like that idea?” he asks, moving his finger against your prostate. “You like the idea of being stuffed full of me?”

Oh, God. 

The look on your face must be answer enough, because within seconds another finger slides inside you. You squirm; it doesn’t hurt at all – and this is Steve, so you’re never worried about pain because he knows your body so well – but it’s full pressure and intense. You gasp, wiggling, and he bites your earlobe again. “Stay still for me,” he says. “Let me make this last…?”

“Can’t, feels too good,” you say, but before you can move he’s sliding his fingers out of you. “Fuck, Steve, why…?”

“Not gonna let you come,” he says, and wow. Hi, kink you never knew you had, nice to meet you. “Not gonna let you until I say so.”

You swallow thickly, twist in his arms so you’re talking directly into his mouth. “Okay,” you say, and kiss him. “Not until you say.”

His cock throbs inside you, and the low growl that rumbles through his chest makes you shiver. But instead of thrusting into you, he slowly slips free of your body. Your hole feels loose, empty without him, and the sensation makes you gasp. “Where’re you goin’?”

“Come on, out of the tub,” he says, and _gets off of you completely_. You gape at him, and he says, “Trust me?”

“Always,” you reply, and he grins at you. 

With a groan of effort, you get up and step onto the bathmat next to him, letting him towel you off. He doesn’t touch your cock or balls once, which is probably a good thing since a cool breeze would probably make you shoot all over the floor. Instead, he kneels at your feet, dries the spaces between your toes, your calves; it’s the most erotic thing ever to happen to you after a bath, and you wonder how long he’s been planning to do something like this to you.

“Weeks.”

You startle, and he huffs, “You’re talking out loud, Buck.”

Oh. Oops.

“I’ve been planning something like this for weeks,” he says. “Ever since that night we broke the bed, when you rode me and came on only my cock. I wanted to know how long I could make you hold on and wait for me, see how much you came afterwards.”

Your skin may be dry, but you’re shivering with anticipation and excitement. “So then what’s next?” you ask.

He wags a finger at you. “You’ll see. Not telling.”

With that, he towels off himself and beckons you to follow him to the bedroom. And yes, he _has_ been planning this, because the only light in the room is from candles. The bed is stripped of all but the bottom sheet, and a pile of pillows is propped in the center of the bed. You silently take in the tableau, and don’t speak; you know he’ll tell you what he wants when he’s ready to say so.

He kisses you, nudges your legs apart so you can hump his thigh, and you take shameless advantage. You get one, two good rubs in – and then he moves. “On the bed, on your stomach. Lay over the pillows, okay?”

You stretch up for one more kiss and do as he says, using the pillows to elevate your hips and stomach. Once you settle, he asks, “Now you’ve got two choices: I can tie you so you’re still, or I can take you on your honor that you won’t move.”

“Tie me,” you say, without hesitating. “I trust you, Steve.”

He blushes; oh, this man, how you love him. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says.

He reaches under the bed and pulls up gleaming silver threads – which, under closer inspection, are chains. When you arch an eyebrow at him, he says, “These are Asgardian; I dare you to get out of them.”

“You asked Thor for bondage equipment?”

His blush deepens. “No, I asked Thor if he could bring us the same chains that they used on their criminals, in case we ever met any other Asgardian who wished to harm Earth. We’re just… borrowing them.”

You laugh, and keep laughing until he swats you on the ass. “Shush,” he says. 

You shiver at the blow; the arousal that had subsided blossoms full-force again. “Steve? What’re you gonna do to me?”

Steve wraps the silvery cuffs around your wrists, pulling them together above your head, and then binds your ankles to the footboard. The chains wrap through the solid-iron headboard of your bed, and though you tug, you’re secure and spread-eagled. 

Besides, you’re not trying to get away that hard.

“Feels good?”

You nod, and sink into the pillows. “So now I’m at your mercy…”

He smiles, reaches under you and frees your cock from its resting place between the pillow and your stomach. You’re hard, and it points straight down at the bed instead of rubbing against the soft pillow beneath you. “That’s uncomfortable,” you complain, but he ignores you. “C’mon, please?”

He moves away from the bed, heading to the hallway. “Hey!”

“I’m right here, I’ll be back in a second.”

You take a deep breath, then another. You can’t hear him moving and you whine, wiggling against the pillows. “Steve…”

No response. You squirm harder, yank at the chains around your wrists but they don’t budge. You hate that you can’t move and your cock’s so hard it’s uncomfortable and…

You shriek at the softness against your hole, yanking against the headboard hard enough to make it groan. Steve shushes you and holds out something for you to see: a paintbrush. “What?”

He draws the brush against your skin again and you jerk, the ticklish sensation stimulating you and making you writhe in discomfort. “No, please – don’t tickle me, that’s torture!”

“Trust me, Bucky,” he says. “Say you’ll trust me – and if you really want me to stop, I will.”

You take a deep breath, exhale. “Damn,” you say, and squeeze your hands into fists. “Do your worst.”

His eyes light up and he touches the brush to your skin again, this time over the curve of your hip. It tickles, and it’s intensely erotic, but now that you’re expecting the touch you can take it with ease. “Oh, wow,” you say, arching so he can drag the brush down your spine. “That’s really somethin’.”

“You like it?”

You make a noise of agreement and tilt your head so you can watch him work. He swirls the brush over the meat of your ass, down the back of your thighs; and in the wake of each stroke, a light tingling lingers over your skin. “S’nice.”

He drags the brush into the cleft of your ass and you spread your legs as far as you can, giving yourself to his explorations. He exhales across your skin and you squirm, but he doesn’t speak; neither do you, too entranced by his movements to break the spell. He kneels up closer to you on the bed, so that he’s between your spread legs, and you whine as his mouth brushes across the small of your back. “Sensitive?” he asks, feathering the brush lower on your balls.

You arch; for every place he touches with his mouth, you can feel the answering sensation build in your groin. “Steve…”

It’s not enough to bring you over the edge, but just enough to enflame your body. Before you can stop yourself, you rut forward into the pillows for relief.

A sharp slap stops you, and you squeak. “Did you just spank me?”

“I did,” he says. “Thought you were gonna let me tell you when you could come?”

You groan, “You’re killing me.”

“Promise it’ll be worth it. Now hold still.”

Your grumbling is cut off by the brush against your sac and his mouth over your hole. “JESUS,” you swear, and he laughs, sending reverberations through your entire body. 

He licks at you, dipping his tongue inside you and making you cry his name over and over. The brush on your balls, his mouth eating at your most sensitive places, the feelings build and build until you’re floating, riding a hazy sensation of ‘too much’ and ‘please more’. 

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“You still with me?”

“Mmm.”

Steve laughs, kisses you quickly on the cheek. “Okay, so, I think you’re ready.”

“Ready?” you manage, and whine as his cock breaches you again. “Fuck, Steve.”

The friction is incredible; the way he glides inside you and you’re too strung out to do anything but lay there and let him fuck you. “Just hang in there another couple minutes for me, sweetheart,” he says, rocking his hips up. “Can you wait for me?”

“Course,” you mumble. “Love you.”

It doesn’t take long for him to come inside you, and you can feel his seed trickling out, down your thighs. He stills behind you when he pulls out, stares at your body and his claim upon it. “God.”

“Just me,” you say.

He chuckles, moves to the foot of the bed and uncuffs your ankles. Then he releases your hands, and you’re too fucked out to move on your own. He kisses your shoulders and calves and rubs the tension out, then helps you roll off the pillows to sprawl on your back. “You’re still hard for me,” he says, pleased. “God, you’re so perfect.”

“M’yours.”

He rubs a thumb across your nipple and you sigh; your body still doesn’t feel like your own. “Bucky, is this good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Whenever you want to shoot, go ahead. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He continues to massage your chest, rubs your belly until he’s leaning over you and sucking the head of your cock. You don’t even lift your hips before you’re coming, long and hard and oversensitive. “Stop! Please, too much…”

He releases you and you shiver, and it feels like your orgasm’s still going on and on and on…

When you next open your eyes, you’re wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against Steve’s chest. “That was amazing,” you say. “Never knew it could be like that…”

“You told me that being submissive meant you were hurt,” Steve says, kissing your forehead. “I wanted to show you it wasn’t that way. Being submissive should mean being worshipped by someone strong enough to love you.”

“It used to hurt, before.”

“But you’re mine and it won’t hurt ever again.”

You close your eyes. “Thanks for doing that.”

“It was my pleasure.”

You laugh; you really do have the best husband ever.


End file.
